


Familiar Fear

by MeatPocketMe



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Dry Humping, Dubcon or Noncon Moirallegiance, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fear Play, Forced Orgasm, Horror, I'm Going to Hell, Lots Of Tasty Drool, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Save Me, Smut, bye!, drool, pure filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 22:30:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13511097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeatPocketMe/pseuds/MeatPocketMe
Summary: An old friend comes round for dinner....





	Familiar Fear

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever story so I'd really appreciate some good old constructive criticism!

The events of Derry are long buried in the memories of your past. You've moved away, moved on, sinking into an everyday life, in an everyday town. When ever nostalgia does touch you, the warmth of the summers make you glow and the light of your friendships lifts your soul.

Now, the year was at it's beginning, frigid winds and sleeping trees decorate the grey landscape. Out for your evening jog, your cheeks and fingers burn a bright pink against the cutting wind, while your ponytail playfully dances to your tempo. The sunlight was fading calling the street lights to flicker on, the change made you question, _how long have you actually been running for now?_ Coming to a stop, catching your breath, you check your watch, it had been two hours, running round and around the same block. Furrowing your brow you tap the watch face.

"That can't be right?"

Taking a moment to question yourself, did you really just run for _two_ hours? it didn't feel like it, not even close. You look at your watch, then back up to the dimming sky. Puzzled, you half accept this, chuckling to yourself because you can't deny the facts. Making it back to your front door, you quickly get your keys out while the wind braces up against you, agitating the neighbors wind chimes. You open the door hastily, slamming it shut behind you, letting out a sigh of relief. You turn the lights on and crank up the heating, rubbing your frozen pink fingers together. The built up sweat from your run begins to chill, with that prompt you move to the shower, turning it on.

The heat and the sound melts you into relaxation, the hot water bouncing off your face. You scrub the layer of sweat away, then begin to wash your hair, frothing it up into a bundle on your head. Your body lifts with shock as a frosted gust runs up your spine to your neck, the sound of wind chimes echoing with it. Shrieking in surprise you turn around, the shower causing the shampoo to stream into your eyes, blurring and stinging them. You quickly shut them, grimacing at the pain, cursing at the air, turning back to the shower, washing your face and blinking into the water to cleanse your vision. The shower sputters aggressively, switching to an iced cold rush, forcing another shriek out of you. Your hand fumbles and turn off the shower. Standing hugging yourself wide eyed, you can feel the goosebumps stippling your skin, lifting the fine hairs. Teeth gritted through discomfort and annoyance.

"Fucking boiler!"

Shivering, you step out of the shower, snatch a towel and swing it around yourself. As the soft cotton calms you, the fear of what just happened starts to creep into you. Back, into that state of confusion again, you look around, the bathroom window is shut, fogged with condensation. Lost in thoughts seeking evidence, the sound of your bedroom door slamming against the wall rips your attention back. Your head snaps to face the noise, your feet slowly edging towards it. Fear holding your eyes open and stealing your breath. When you can see the door fully, you hear the sounds of wind whipping through your bedroom, the ringing of that wind chime. The cold air tickles your up your feet, seconds feel like hours as you stare at the door, a feeling of fear, of familiarity. But common sense soon hits you like a bitch, your face dropping, feeling like an idiot.

"Awe, for fucks sacks"

You storm into your bedroom, feet stomping as you slam the window shut, settling the curtains and door. You smiled nervously to yourself, taking a deep breath.

"Get a grip"

Chiming gently rings out behind you with a faint giggle, your fears needle back open sharply. You begin to whisper to yourself.

"This isn't real, this is just my head playing games with me again"

Turning around, you repeat this mantra to yourself. The room, is empty, quite. You quietly sneak each step forward, eyes wide darting around the room.

"This isn't real, this is just my head playing games with me again... This isn't real, this is just my head playing games with me again"

An excited giggle sounds out from behind the door, with a jingle of excitement. Slack jawed you stare at the door, frozen in fear. Slowly, the door begins to pull itself away from the wall, the shadow lifting to unveil a tall man dressed as a vintage clown. Eyes a golden glow with a buck tooth grin, his arm rises gently to give you a little wave. Fear weights on your gravity as you try to keep your feet and composure, whimpering.

"Who the hell are you? why are you in my house?! GET OUT!"

The clown gently tilts his head, giving an over expression of sadness, bottom lip pouting.

"What's the matter? don't recognize an old _friend?_ "

A sickly grin sweeps his lips.

"No?! wha-what, how did you get in?!"

Your bottom lip quivering with fear, you slowly grow some confidence in anger. His eyes dig into yours as he takes a step forward, you react stepping back. With a smile, he leans forward and sweeps his arms into a bow, not taking his predatory gaze off you.

"Why, I'm Pennywise, dancing clown"

Your fear pangs with that familiarity again, Pennywise slowly licks his bottom lip, drool escaping from it. You can't place it, but you begin to recognize him... and that feeling, that fear. The clown straightens up.

"My, oh my, haven't we grown, shot up!... just like a little _weeeeeD_ "

His words deepen and rumble in your chest, calling out a primal fear in you, you can't fight this one. Your eyes glance to the door and back at him. _RUN_. Adrenaline kicks in and you spring for the door, Pennywise almost jumping up with glee and excitement. His arm shoots out ripping the towel off, you fall to the floor, now laid bare. Looking down at you, he pulls a surprised expression, then looks back up to the towel in his hand, putting a hand over his mouth.

"oops!"

He giggles before breaking into a cackle. On you back, you slowly edge your retreat, keeping one arm up in instinctive protection. His eyes and head slowly turn back to you in a dead, lifeless stare, drool stringing down from his slack jaw. You stare into his golden eyes, your own, tearing with fear, his chest heaves with deep heavy breathes as he watches your sniffling retreat.

"Oh god, please, help!"

He lets out a little croak before his breathing stops and his body stiffens, he is still, fixed like statue. You pause, confused, staring up as he hangs there motionless. This is your chance! Another wave of adrenaline injects you and you scramble to get up. The clown lets out a deafening roar, leaping at you, pinning you back to the ground. You let out a scream of panic as he straddles you, arms and legs flailing wildly. He's laughing manically, trying to playfully tickle your waist. Crying and pleading your hands try and fight back. He clamps his hands around yours wrists and slams them to the ground, his back arches leering his face to meet yours, you try to face away, crying uncontrollable.

"Oh god please, don't hurt me, I-I wont tell anyone, I-I-I promise, please, just don't hurt me"

You feel his weight shift as he leans down and takes in a deep breath, inhaling your scent. A deep gargling growl billows deep from within him, his eyes rolling back, body shivering, rattling his bells, you feel hot drool dripping on your neck. Hes growling finally fades into a deep sigh, eyes roll back down and flick to meet yours, with a wicked grin on his face.

"Your feeear, smells so _sweet_ now"

You tremble beneath him, face contorting into dread as the deep realization seeps in.

"no, no, please, don't, I'll do anything, just, not _that_ "

After narrowing his eyes at you, he puts on a cheerful smile and playfully says.

"well, what is it to be? do you want to be dinner?....or _desert?_ "

You grimace, as the option was obvious, gulping, you shakily nod your head, relaxing your arms. Pennywise chuckles and wrinkles his nose at you before playfully tapping a finger on your nose.

"BOOP, Good girl"

His eyes lock into yours, a large hand tightly grips around your jaw, squeezing to purse your lips, he brings his mouth to yours, his breath heavy and hot, smelling like pop-corn and iron. He presses his lips gently against yours, eyes still baring into you. He flutters a gentle kiss, looking down at your mouth he butterflies a few more, tenderly tasting you, his lips soft and full. The sweet softness begins to touch you, calling a warmth inside your own body. He flicks his eyes back up at you with a coy grin.

"hmmm, you are a good girl, a good little plaything for the clown"

Within a second his face contorts into violence, bearing rows of jagged pointed teeth, he lunges, aiming to rip your throat out, a scream forces out of you. But no pain follows. He stopped just before making contact, letting out a loud cackle at your reaction, wiggling his feet with delight. You lay there a mess of terror and confusion, Pennywise giggles uncontrollable before smashing his mouth against yours, forcing it open, pushing his tongue deep inside, ferociously kissing you. His saliva, thick and sweet begins to build up, covering your lips and beginning to fill your mouth, frothing at the corners. He tongue explores your mouth, wiggling unnaturally. He slowly retracts it, a trail of saliva still joining the two of you, his eyes flutter as he licks it up into his mouth. His composure settles, leaning down on one elbow, his chest presses down against yours, his other hand comes up to stroke your face and twiddle your hair in a dreamy fashion.

"Tasty, sweet little plaything, are you going to be mine?"

His saliva still heavily coating the inside of your mouth, you swallow and take a deep breath, nodding at him. He turns his head to one side, his ear facing your mouth.

"Say iT"

His voice more commanding.

"I'm going to be yours"

You forced out. The clown, almost sounding playful again.

"And _whoooos_ are you going to be?"

"Pennwises...the dancing....clown"

Your voice trailing off into a whisper, as he cackles. He begins to shift, placing a hand either side of your head, straightening his legs out, almost posing in a downward dog fashion. He hooks a foot in between your legs and kicks one out the the side, placing his other foot down he kicks out the other, all the time smiling and pulling silly faces at you. His feet slowly slid back against the floor, lowering his body down. Now hunched over and nestled between your legs. His hips drop against yours, you can feel something hard press against you, wrapped in his silk costume, he presses it down hard, separating your lips and putting weight on your clitoris. The clowns hips begin to move back and forth, moving up and down against your slit. You grit your teeth and shut your eyes, but you can't help but feel the tingling ache build up, biting your lip, you try to stifle any sound. Pennywise lets out deep guttural sighs as he rubs up against you, burring his head in your hair and neck, taking in deep breaths of you. A gasp escapes your lips as he begins to lick and nip at your neck and shoulder. His own sighing becoming more deep and raspy, vibrating against your chest. You can't help but wrap your arms around his back, gripping onto his costume, his pace becomes quicker and harder. You gasp deeply, caught in a psychological conflict, fighting back the pleasure and fear, which begin to have a sweet throb. But it all starts to build and swell, pulsing with searing pleasure, growing, before hitting you, heaving your chest up and pulling your head back, you let out a defeated cry of ecstasy. Pennywise slows his pace, dragging his long tongue around your neck and chest, you need him to stop, you are too sensitive, he grins a sniggers at your discomfort.

"What a women you've become, yes, I like you like this. There's so much more fun to be had"

He stops to sit back on his knees. You can see from the stretch in his costume that he was larger than 'normal'. It begins to wriggle with a mind of it's own, your face pulls with confusion and disgust. Pennywise chortles as it squirms, freeing itself from the confines of his costume. It settles back down into a hardened state, long, thick and pale with a pink end. As it settled, so did he. Your eyes widen.

"...what... the... fuck"

His strong hands grab the underside of you knees, pulling up and pushing back your legs, exposing your swollen slippy self to the cold air. He takes a moment watching your reaction with sadistic satisfaction.

"...Time to float"

Mercilessly he drives his hips down, his engorged member stabbing into you, stretching you out wide. You let out a howl of pain as he's buried up to the hilt, droll begins to spill from his mouth, leaching down to where the two of you join. You can feel its coolness against your searing entrance. Your pants of pain ease, looking up, his predatory golden glare digs into dangerously once more, drawing himself back out slowly before slamming back into you, sending shock waves up your body. You let out a cry, his pace quick and forceful, not giving your body a chance to accommodate him. Your body is sympathetic and begins to slowly adjust, insides twitch and moisten, the sharp stretching pain turning into a hot ache, your cry's turning into sighs. The wetness of yourself and the clowns drool mix together, making a deliciously disgusting sound as he pounds into you. His grasp tightens, fingers digging into your skin, pushing down, your knees almost touch the ground beside you. His eyes intensely watch you with a malicious smile on his face. His thrusts are hard, smacking your pelvis against the floor, it was the most painful pleasure you'd ever experienced, your insides tremble as he opens up new hidden places. Your sighs and groans grow, your sanity now lost to the aether. Pennywise begins to let out angry, primal grunts and groans, feeling you clamp around him, hugging him in. His composed face falls as he lets go, breath heaving as he picks up pace. You feel yourself teetering over the edge, wanting it, needing to fall into oblivion, it's coming, a growing wave that finally crashes over you, pulsing with sinful fulfillment. Your body convulses and spasms, tightly constricting against Pennywise, which in turn floods ecstasy over him, his own body shaking widely, his bells jingling. He gushes inside of you, slick hot liquid sugar, oozes out from his final slowing thrusts. The air slowly breaths you back to life as you float back down to reality, the clowns head is hanging low, his body slack, taking in twitchy breaths. His eyes look up and he smiles at you.

"Beautiful, tasty, delicate plaything"

He leans forward, staring into you before lifting a hand and playfully tapping your nose again.

"boop"

Your eyes roll back and the world turns black.


End file.
